“Colt,” she whispers. “What if you were my boyfriend?”
Every muscle in my body goes still.
“Really?” My voice comes out lower than I intend. “You’d want that?”
She nods—barely—but it’s enough to knock the breath right out of my chest.
“If you would,” she adds, quieter.
I sit up a little, smirking because otherwise I might start feeling things too fast.
“Did you just ask me tobe your boyfriend?” I tease. “I thought we were keeping this casual.”
She laughs weakly, then meets my eyes—and this time she doesn’t look away.
“This stopped being casual for me a long time ago.”
Fuck.
Something hits me right in the center of my ribs.
Heavy but good.
And also, a little terrifying.
I exhale. “When’s the flight?”
“Next Monday.”
My stomach drops.
Damn.
Of course.
“Oh,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “I, uh… start football on Tuesday.”
Her head jerks up. “Football?”
“Yeah.” I let out a breath. “Semi-pro team reached out. Saw my old highlights. Asked me to come try out. I wasn’t going to tell you yet, but…I got the offer.”
Her eyes widen.
“Colt. That’s incredible. What about personal training?”
“Oh, Damien fired me.”
“What?”
“It’s kinda because of you,” I admit, looking down.
“I’m so, so sorry.” She puts her hand on her heart.
“No, I don’t care about that job anyway. I mean it’s because of you that I’ve got interest in a new football gig. You pushed me. Believed in me. You made me think maybe I wasn’t done.”
Her expression softens in a way that makes my heart thump unevenly.
“Well…that’s too bad, then,” she murmurs, trying to mask disappointment but not doing a great job. “I mean, too bad you start next Monday. Happy that you got a new gig though.”
